


Drift into me

by Liaeling



Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: Complete, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-30
Updated: 2013-04-30
Packaged: 2017-12-09 23:38:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/779292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liaeling/pseuds/Liaeling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Afraid of falling, of wandering, of disappearing... of choking without you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drift into me

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language, I apologize for grammatical mistakes in advance.
> 
> This was a product of late night inspiration (very sudden) but still I thought I could share it. 
> 
> P.S.: I suck at summaries, so ignore the "summary" LOL

It wasn’t as though they were drifting apart, although they were.

It wasn’t the distance that mattered or the time in between, but the imminent feeling of detachment at the moment of meeting again.

The storm may wait for the right moment, but surely the sky never waits for the storm. It simply let it pass, let it come and go with the ebbing of the tide as the moon rises right after the sun sets. The sky is impassive and cold against the climax of wind, water and electricity.

He never raised his voice, neither did he turn around abruptly to meet his eyes and declare the words he had been waiting for. That was not part of the plan, Bradley suddenly realized.

The lights were off and Colin was facing the window, his back towards him, his eyes lost somewhere in the vast, ever increasing lights of the city. His broad back and his slim waist were severely outlined against the diffused lights in the mist. He was composed and calm, his breathing was soft yet rhythmical. No trace of anxiety was present in him, just a slight trace of something Bradley couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

It wasn’t fatigue neither depression. Maybe it was something simpler than that.

As Colin’s arms tightened around himself denying all outside stimuli, Bradley had to take a breath in, suddenly feeling disconsolate and empty.

It was _disappointment._

And it wasn’t directed towards him. The disappointment was his and his alone. He saw it now. He saw it in the slight droop of his shoulders and the feeble attempt to keep his chin up. It was etched on the way his right hand gripped his elbow while his left barely touched his bicep. 

He didn’t need to speak. No words were necessary.

The damage was done, and it had probably been done overnight. In one chilly night as he suddenly realized it wasn’t worth fighting for, waiting for, or _hoping_ for. In the vastness of his bed, under silent sheets and cozy duvets. The ticking of the clock had been a detonator and a companion both at once.

Bradley closed his eyes, trying to picture the innumerable scenarios that ringed behind the same words he had whispered in his ear again and again over the years. _What if_.

And it was too late now. And it would always be too late.

“You won’t miss me.” he whispered, eyes still closed.

He felt his movement instead of seeing it, and he could recreate the image behind the darkness of his eyelids. He slowly dropped his arms, letting his hands fall to his side as he turned on his heels, eyes downcast. His chin finally lowering as his shoulders rose slightly in an unconscious gesture of self-defense against the one who could hurt him… who could have hurt him.

His voice took him by surprise. 

“I can’t miss what I never had.”

It was his time to feel disappointed and also his time to turn around and flee while he still could. But he found himself unable to move. He tried to open his eyes but he knew what he would see and what he would _feel_ at the sight.

He had known it all along. From the moment the Northern Irishman had stared at him unblinking and welcomed him with a shy, slow smile that transformed his face. He had been afraid since then. Afraid of the feeling inside of him and afraid of showing it without meaning to. And every time that Colin smiled at him he had to make himself look instead of avoiding his gaze. At least he could have that, those memories of his smile.

And he was terrified now. Terrified of opening his eyes and looking at him only to find no smile to remember.

So he let the silence stretch as it always did when he kept his mouth shut. Someone would eventually break it, and he hoped with all his might it would be in the situation they always ended up in. Not a private conversation in the kitchen or a sudden confession of emotion in the middle of a park, but in the situation they both yearned for and dreaded too.

The same _what if_ they kept repeating time after time. And yes, even if they never said it, heartbreak after heartbreak.

He sighed again, slowly and deliberately, finding the strength in the depth of his gut where something was slowly starting to burn again. He slowly opened his eyes only to be met by two unforgiving blue eyes.

“I can’t miss what I never had. But I’ve had you so many times I’m not sure missing is even allowed.”

It was barely a whisper, a breath against his face. But it was all it took to set him aflame.

He found Colin’s hands on his chest before he even found the energy to blink. The way he slowly caressed him took his breath away, filling every gap in his being, even the ones he had forgotten about.

The first touch of lips was light and fleeting, almost like the first time they kissed.

Bradley slowly found a way to lift his arms and embrace him, bringing him close to him as he did so. The gulf between them suddenly disappeared as they both reached for each other’s lips, breathing in anticipation. 

It always felt the same. First, desolation and emptiness and then the promise of something, followed slowly by the immersion and involvement. 

The kiss turned rough the moment Colin’s hands found Bradley’s hair. It became a battle, a quest for dominance. Suddenly, the diffused lights filtering through the window were ablaze and the silence was broken by intakes of breath between bites.

A sudden laugh escaped Bradley’s lips as Colin’s teeth caught his lower lip and pulled. He kept laughing up until the moment Colin released his lip in surprise, as Bradley unbuttoned and dipped his hands under the front of the Irishman’s trousers.

Kisses followed kisses as Bradley slowly led them down the same path he always did. His hands kept proving and the opposition were Colin’s moans.

He pushed the door with his back, grateful to find it slightly ajar and kept walking back until he found the buoy he ached to hold on to.

Before he had time to fall back, Colin wrapped his hands around him in a rapid motion. Bradley barely had time to register the movement as he found himself lifted off his feet and thrown back unto Colin’s bed.

He lifted himself on his elbows, only to be met by an image that would surely burn half of his neurons.

Colin’s lips were red and a slight cut on his upper lip tainted them with blood. His eyes were dark, pupils dilated almost to the point of hiding the iris. His hair was down, almost touching his eyebrows and framing his face in a way that let his cheekbones strike out.

He was slowly unbuttoning his plaid shirt, right leg slightly in front, doing no effort to hide his erection behind the unbuttoned trousers.

“What if I told you I will fuck tonight until you bleed?” he whispered as he kept unbuttoning his shirt.

Bradley took a breath in, trying to suppress the need to touch himself, throw himself upon Colin and accept the question. If they were going to play rough, he wasn’t going to succumb on the first try.

“What if I told you you’ll have to fight for it?” he answered in the same hushed whisper.

The way Colin’s lips curved as his hips slightly moved forward was enough of an answer to drive Bradley mad with desire.

In a quick movement, Bradley lunged himself forward, taking advantage of Colin’s sudden surprise to wrap his legs around his hips and bring him down to the bed as he turned his body, trapping Colin under him in the process.

Colin was openly laughing now, sexy act reduced to nothing as Bradley kissed him under his chin, knowing full well that he was ticklish in that spot more than in any other. Colin found enough self control to tickle back, finding Bradley’s spot on the small of his back, on the right side under the scar he had as a reminder of a childish stupidity.

Laughter was all they shared until they both began to wiggle, trying to extricate from one another. The friction made them remember what their bodies had not forgotten. Bradley’s kisses descended towards Colin’s collarbones and Colin’s hands found their way up Bradley’s back, towards that spot which, if rightly caressed, always resulted in Bradley buckling his hips against him.

They kept on teasing each other for a while. Bradley licking the dip between Colin’s collarbones, extracting moans from him, while Colin caressed again and again the right spot, resulting in a series of involuntary buckling of hips.

Suddenly, Colin gripped Bradley by the hair, guiding his face up and meeting him in an open kiss filled with desire. 

Bradley had to grip the bed for support. Suddenly he felt afraid of falling. He knew falling was easy when Colin pushed him, and he knew he was never higher up than when he was with Colin.

The Irishman kept pushing up, kissing him deep and dirty, almost like his life depended on it. He tried to break away and found himself incapable of doing it. He was hyperventilating and panicking, he felt a constriction on his chest, yet he couldn’t break apart. It was as though he was breathing too much oxygen through Colin’s mouth, and he was slowly being intoxicated.

Apparently, Colin felt the change in energy, for he suddenly wrapped his legs around his waist and turned them around in a flourish of movement, never breaking the kiss. He was straddling him now, reaching and pushing down at the same time.

And suddenly, he pushed away.

Bradley took a lungful of air, feeling slightly dizzy and disorientated. He blinked and found Colin sited on top of him, left shoulder showing as his shirt slid off, looking at him quizzically and almost alarmingly.

His eyes had gone round; his red mouth formed a slight “o”, eyebrows high in his forehead. Behind his eyes there was desire, doubt and fear.

Bradley was still fighting for air, chest heaving. The moment Colin tilted his head in question, he realized he was terrified. 

Out of the depths of him, he found the strength to sit up, hugging Colin close to his chest while the Irishman kept on looking at him with worry. Bradley burrowed his face in the space where his neck ended and his chest started. The pulse in his jugular and the breath tickling his hair was enough to make him understand his sudden loss of control.

He was terrified of falling. Not of falling apart under Colin, nor of falling away without him. He was terrified of falling _in love_ with him.

Bradley loss sense of time as they froze there, clinging to each other without making a sound or without moving. He was aware of his desire, present on the pit of his stomach, and he could feel Colin’s erection on his lower belly but somehow it failed to make him move.

His mind was racing. What if he did fall in love with him? What if Colin fell in love with him too? Would that be a start… or an ending?

They had never properly started, and they had tried to end. And yet, here they were, “ending” again.

It could have been fifteen minutes or an hour, Bradley would never know. He only knew he could breathe again when Colin’s hands slid down his back, while he lightly placed a kiss on top of his head.

Here it was. His patient, little Colin. Kind, selfless, and definitely too good for him.

Bradley had always been rough. Thoughtless and selfish with his feelings and needs. He didn’t deserve this, not in a thousand years.

“Even if you think you don’t deserve me… I still want you.”

Bradley’s sudden intake of breath almost hurt. He felt his eyes water and he couldn’t stop thinking how weak he was. He felt Colin’s hands on his face and he had to bite down hard to stop himself from dropping all pretenses as he raised his head to meet his gaze.

The need in Colin’s eyes was subdued now. It was kindness and something else that clouded those eyes, and Bradley couldn’t understand how alive they seemed this close up.

“And I wouldn’t want you… if I didn’t think you deserve me.”

The way Colin whispered the words was enough to crumble him. The walls came crashing down on him and he barely registered the moment Colin started kissing him, gentler than ever.

Suddenly, all the desire that had cursed through their veins had melted and turned into ardor. Colin’s light touch on his back and shoulders created goose bumps along its path, and Bradley’s exploration of Colin’s mouth was enough to set him on fire.

The intensity had turned into subdued heat. Controlled, yet not less passionate.

They took off their clothes slowly, enjoying the sweet slip of fabric against skin and the intakes of breath as skin met skin. It wasn’t play anymore, it was work. They worked each other out of their clothes, and away from their voids. Behind kisses were hushed conversations they had avoided all along.

When they found each other bare, the exploration began. Not with tongues but with shared looks. They never broke gazes as they rocked against each other, moaning into each other’s mouths. 

Bradley didn’t feel pressure on the pit of his stomach anymore; he felt it all the way down to the bottom of his feet. And he knew that Colin wasn’t fighting for dominance anymore.

As the Irishman moaned against his ear, keeping the rhythm they had created slowly, Bradley understood the change he gradually noticed in Colin.

He wasn’t fighting for control. He was giving in.

Not unto him, but _into_ him.

They had been together so many times, and they had given to each other so many things over the years. Physically as well as emotionally. But this time around it was different. 

Bradley realized why right before losing control, painfully aware that Colin was losing it too.

It wasn’t the rhythm, or the feeling. It wasn’t because they haven’t been together for a long time, or because he had been away. 

It was the _disappointment._

The same one Colin had bathed in as he looked out the window and the one that Bradley had felt as he realized he had never been Colin’s.

It was the way they had felt dissatisfied at finding they had failed to accomplish something. And in finding they had failed, they had opened a new door. Not for failing again, but for failing on purpose. 

Except, this time around it wouldn’t be a failure, it would be a weakness.

And certainly not all weakness is negative, for our weaknesses define our strengths.

As Bradley drifted off to sleep, feeling the warmth of Colin right next to him and hearing his calm breathing, he realized they weren’t drifting apart.

He turned, enveloping Colin with both of his arms and letting the sleepy Irishman cuddle into him as he smiled his shy, little smile. Bradley dropped a kiss to his forehead, letting out the breath he had been holding all along.

They weren’t drifting apart. They were drifting away.


End file.
